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Blood Red Wine	By : Bevan Category: 1 through F > Crossing Jordan Views: 2334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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She took off her sweater jacket and hung it up in the entryway,
stretching her arms above her head, and then pulling her crucifix pendent on its chain
idly, sighing as she looked at the plate on the coffee table. With a slight roll of her
eyes she picked up what was no doubt her roommates dirty plate and took it into the
kitchen, slipping slightly on something in the floor. She looked down, the streetlight
outside barely illuminating the room, much less the floor. She flipped on the light over
the sink and turned, her hand flying to her mouth as she swallowed a scream. Tears stung
her eyes and bile burned the back of her throat, and she sucked in her next breath with a
slight hitch, trying not to scream. There was a noise from the doorway leading back to the
living room and she looked up, a frightened whimper all that could escape from her closed
throat.

~~~~

“What about the other girl?” Jordan asked, stooping down to
take a liver temp.

“EMT’s said she was unresponsive, and had a blown pupil,
whatever the hell that means,” Woody sighed, “She’d just gotten home from
Mass. Apparently the guy was still in the house. Beat her over the head with a hammer and
then slit her throat, but she didn’t die. Mom called 911 after she couldn’t
reach her. Apparently she always called when she got home from church.”

“Well, this girl’s been dead for at least two hours,”
she said, writing it down in her notes, hearing the camera in Nigel’s hand working
behind her, “Any of the neighbors see anything?”

“No,” Woody said, “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Detective, you might want to take a look at this.”

“What is it?” he asked, turning to the CSI.

He followed him into the bathroom and blanched, he’d been
wondering where the dog that was in nearly ever picture was. He didn’t know which was
worse, the sight, or the sound of the blood dripping onto the tile of the shower.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, turning and walking out.

“What is it?” Jordan asked, looking up.

He shook his head, “I don’t think . . .”

She got up and walked into the bathroom, “Nige.”

Nigel looked up at Woody and then stood up, “Yeah luv?”

“You know what you were saying the other day?” she asked,
coming back out.

“Yeah,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you were right.”

~~~~

"Same puncture wounds on the neck," Jordan said into the
recorder clipped to her, "Laceration to the throat severed all major blood vessels
and tendons. This time there's mutilation to the body, namely a large incision from the
pubis to the sternum, and the viscera pulled out. . . Jesus Christ can someone turn that
damn centrifuge off!"

A tech immediately hit the power button to the centrifuge and Jordan
sighed, swallowing hard.

"You okay?" Nigel asked, looking at her gently.

"Fine," she said, continuing with the autopsy, "Woody,
any news on the roommate?"

"Died, about half an hour ago," he said softly, "Looks
like you're working overtime again today."

"Story of my life," she sighed.

~~~~

"Please tell me there's some connection," Jordan said,
looking over Nigel's shoulder.

"I've tried geographical proximity; eing ing their basic info
like height, hair color, etc.; first names; last names; high school; college; occupations;
religion. Nothing coming up to connect them even remotely. The first girl had just moved
here, and these two have lived here all their lives," he said, looking at his
information on the computer, "No connections."

"So you're telling me that these are random attacks?" she
asked, ing ing her face, "You've got to be joking?"

"I wish I wasn't," he sighed, "There's no pattern
other than the bite wounds and the slit throats along with the rape. Now there's the
evisceration, so the pattern's evolving."

"So we've definitely got a serial killer," she sighed,
"Great."

There was a knock on the doorframe and they looked up, watching Woody
raise an eyebrow.

"So, I take it there is no good news from this end," he
said, looking at their grim faces.

"Not unless CSU came up with something we haven't," Jordan
said, standing up.

"There's not much to go by," he said, shaking his head,
"We were hoping you all had something."

"Well, the biological samples matched the first girl, so we're
dealing with the same suspect," Nigel said, "Unfortunately, they aren't in the
database. There were no fingerprints anywhere?"

Woody shook his head, "No, we figure he was wearing gloves.
They're working on getting a psychological profile so we know what kind of suspect to look
for, and running a check to see if they can find any similar cases of animal mutilation
that we can link this too, especially with the . . . with the dog. The thing is, there was
no sign of forced entry, nothing to indicate that there was a real struggle until . . .
until he got a hold of her. Same with the first girl. No signs of forced entry; like they
let him in."

"Did either of them maybe order food?" Jordan asked,
reaching for anything she thought she could grab.

"No, that's one of the first scenarios we looked at," Woody
said, running his hand through his hair, "Another was a boyfriend, but with the first
girl it doesn't fit; especially after meeting with the mother. No wonder she moved."

"Nigel, do we have any idea when this guy's liable to do this
again?" Jordan asked, leaning back on Bug's desk.

He frowned and shook his head, "It's just too early to really
tell anything. And with no real evidence . . ."

"We're just going to have to wait," she sighed, nodding
slightly.
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Blood Red Wine